


Thanks for the fuckin venom

by Frank_Ieros_Lip_Ring



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Bondage and Discipline, Cocaine, Drug Use, Drug-Induced Sex, Gang Violence, Illegal Activities, M/M, Master/Slave, Oral Sex, Rimming, Rough Sex, Underage Sex, Violent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-20
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-05-02 09:03:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5242532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frank_Ieros_Lip_Ring/pseuds/Frank_Ieros_Lip_Ring
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank's life has always been a bit of a shit hole. He's a pet, slave if you will. He was sold into it by his father, Frank Iero Senor, to pay a debt off with the mob.  He was brutally used and abused throughout the years, trained to be the perfect slave. But his whole life get's flipped upside down when he's sold in an auction to a man with bright hazel eyes. He's soon thrown into a world of drugs, violence and family matters far to complex for him to handle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thanks for the fuckin venom

Frank sat in the cage, thin body folded against the bars as he toyed with the chain on his collar. Today was the day of the auction. He had been groomed for this, conditioned to make any man or woman happy. He was meant to please, entice and obey his Master. Never to speak out of turn or say the wrong thing.

Soon he heard his master unlatch the door to the small cage. The man scowled and barked an order “Comere whore.” Frank obediently crawled out on stage. His knees scraped in the hardwood of the stage. He was forced to crawl across the scratched and damp surface. The vile state of it would be enough to make most men puke. Cum and blood stained almost every inch, other unknown substances left dark marks as well. Frank wrinkled his nose in disgust as something unidentifiable squished against his open palm.

Frank was dressed in pale pink panties that left little to the imagination. He was laced up into a slightly loose corset, ribbons gracelessly tangled behind him. Thick leather cuffs were wrapped around his wrist and chained together, constricting his already stiff movements. A collar was locked tightly around his thin throat, causing him to have a hard time taking in air. The room smelled of bile, sweat and cum, a hint of copper due to the blood on the run down stage

His chains dragged behind him as he got on his knees beside the man he called his master . His master gave a nod and the hungry crowd immediately surged forward, hands touching him from every angle. They pulled and poked at him, hands slipping between his legs to finger his tight hole. One man even shoved his cock in Frank’s mouth before his master shook his head and pushed him away. They were all testing him out , seeing if they wanted him.

Gerard was simply watching from a distance as the new item to be auctioned was forced onto the stage. He didn't need to pull him around and make him show his worth. This was the boy he wanted. It was best if the slave didn't know anything about the elusive writer, whether it be which hand he works with or the color of his eyes. That's why he wore sunglasses to the auction.

He wanted to save all of the tricks, and all of the treats for when they were at the safe haven of his home.He kept to himself, living in a secluded mansion with his servants, chefs and occasionally his business partners. Before he knew it, the red haired man raised his hand in the air before shouting to the auctioneer. "$900,000 for the skinny thing."

Frank was shocked at this. He looked up at the man willing to buy him at such a high price. How could this eccentric looking man want anything to do with him. The bigger question was, why on earth was such a gorgeous man in a nasty place like this.This place was a shit hole, infested with the worst kinds of men.

He whimpered when his master tugged him to his feet, unhooking the chains. Soon a new leash was attached to his collar and he was being pulled down the steps and towards the man at the end of the room. He stumbled towards the red haired man in fear. He prayed to any god that could hear him that this man wouldn’t just take him home to chain in a basement.

He hoped the man was better than his master, his master was a cruel son of a bitch. Frank was malnourished and pale, arms bruised from how rough his master liked to be with him. He looked like a broken doll, porcelain skin coated in deep purples and violent blues. 

He looked down at his feet, trying to be respectful as his master handed him over like a car dealer hands the keys to a new truck. All he was to these men was a toy He knew this all too well as he was shoved into the arms of the waiting man. He stared up at his shaded eyes and bit his lip.

"I'll transfer the money to you." Gerard nodded before taking off his long coat, sliding it on his new pet before murmuring to him. "Stand up. You are capable of walking." And with that, he began to walk, tugging him with him as he began to stride towards the exit. 

Gerard was a very wealthy and respected man, as well as a deeply troubled one. He was suggested by a very dear friend of him, Bert, to partake in this auction so instead of taking his troubles out on himself, he could do it on someone else. The wealthy artist lived somewhat of a double life. 

Whilst he was well respected for earning his money honestly, not all of it was earned honestly. He was a very dangerous man that would not hesitate to put a bullet through someone's skull if they crossed him. Barely anyone knew that, only his two associates, Bert and Bob, and both were waiting for him back at his secluded mansion

Frank folded into his new Master's arms and walked with him. He stumbled, frail body shaking in the cold. He clung to the coat as if it could protect him from any harm. and maybe it could. None of the men that had been grabbing at him even looked his way.  
He stared vacantly at the ground before him as he stumbled along beside the man. He whimpered softly and nodded. He knew not to speak without permission. The man had a strong grip but he was gentle at the same time. Frank prayed to whatever god would listen that the man wouldn't ruin him

The red haired man continued walking until a black Aston Martin came into view and he watched as his driver opened the door for them. "Get in." He stated. 

His voice held such authority and it probably made him scarier due to the fact that his eyes were shielded from the world. After his new pet got in the car, the artist climbed in afterwards before plugging in both their seat belts and taking out his phone.

The driver began to speed away from the warehouse as Gerard began to speak into the receiver of an unknown listener. "Ah, hello. I've got someone. He's a pretty little thing, rather skinny but we'll soon change that. Yes, we'll be home in around twenty minutes. Can you tell Olivia to set up his room for him and also ensure that she adds an extra plate to our meal? Yes, thank you. Arrividerci." And with that, he hung up. 

Gerard turned to face his pet, looking at him with an unreadable expression. "Talk to me. What's your name? I want to get to know you."

 

Frank was shocked by how fast everything went. Food? He was getting a room and a plate at a table. The concept seemed so alien to him. He blushed slightly, freezing in his frail clothing. He heard the sharp quip of the man's voice and replied " My n-name? It's Frank Master... I- There's nothing to know about me I'm... I'm a slave I'm not s-supposed to have any intr-rest but serving you" He looked down, trying hard not to be disrespectful to his master. He quivered in his seat, picking at the seat belt.

"No, that's absolutely wrong, Frank. You have interests like in your health. You should have blatantly refused to do anything for anyone until they fed you." Gerard was getting rather angry at the fact that he was so mistreated, of course, Gerard would mistreat him in ways that were very worse, but he would always ensure he was given time to recover and nursed back to health. He didn't want a pet that would die after a few weeks. The artist taken out a cigarette and pressed it between his lips, lighting it and exhaling smoke into the dark car.

Frank looked up at him and whispered, voice faint "Master... I-i have no choice. I-I'm a pet.. N-not a person." He repeated the phrase his former master had always used with him. He was pathetic, a mistake. No better than dirt. His father had sold him into this life at 11 and it was all he'd known since then. How was he to know this man would care if he died

"Don't talk like that. You're still a person and you owe yourself some self worth." The artist muttered in a dark tone of voice before he continued to stare out of the window until the car journey ended. This was going to be much harder than he thought. 

He was going to have to build this person up for the sole purpose that he can break him down again. He wanted to crush him, and render his soul completely useless. He didn't want someone that would be an easy task for him. He wanted a challenge.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading, I'll see you in the next chapter


End file.
